


How to Live with a Huge Penis (A Guide by Steve Rogers)

by orphan_account, starksnack



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Barista Steve Rogers, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Gay, Glitter, I'm posting this in class, Idiots in Love, M/M, Morning Sex, Oops, Rimming, True Love, and the kid sitting beside me just choked on his spit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 12:35:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17622497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account, https://archiveofourown.org/users/starksnack/pseuds/starksnack
Summary: So basically, @erurismyshit on Instagram posted a picture of a book titled "How To Live with A Huge Penis" and one of my Instagram buds, I don't remember who, I'm sorry. But they asked me to write a fic about it. So I gathered together two of my best babes off the Marvel Creators server and we wrote this small collection of stories.Included fics:- build your own fairytale by Ell (SFW)- in the morning by Atlas (NSFW)- under the big top by Kait (NSFW)





	1. build your own fairytale by Ell

Tony meets him for the first time somewhere around the middle of June, when New York is as hot as high hell, and clothes get evermore tighter. Tony’s own are somewhat like a second skin, although whether that’s just him or a feeling reflected by the general public as well is yet to be decided.

Steve is the barista at Tony’s favourite local coffee shop (not that he frequents them. He likes getting his own coffee, but Happy gets antsy when he’s out on his own for too long, and Tony isn’t one to deprive Happy of much, especially when his safety is concerned). But he’s the barista, and he’s always working when Tony manages to sneak away from Happy’s seemingly omniscient eye, and he always smiles like he doesn’t actually know who Tony is - despite the hounds of camera flashes that seem to follow Tony’s every move.

He doesn’t even seem bothered by the cameras whenever Tony shows up, and he treats him just like any other customer. Tony can’t decide if it’s good manners, or if Steve is just so overwhelming oblivious that he doesn’t know Tony, and he doesn’t notice the paps.

Tony can’t decide which one he’d prefer.

Steve is someone who’s work uniform gets tighter every time Tony sees him, and it never fails to catch Tony’s attention. He tries not to stare too much, because the paparazzi are scavengers who will pick up on anyone he makes heart-eyes at, and he doesn’t want to subject Steve to that until he says something other than ‘Extra large macchiato,’ to him. But sometimes Steve’s overabundance of bicep can’t escape his notice, which leads to situations like these.

“Fuck,” Tony says, which is largely appropriate given that he’s staring at an article titled ‘Stark’s New Boytoy? Meet Muscles’, featuring a blown up picture of Tony staring directly at Steve’s pecs (which you wouldn’t fault him for, had you seen them) Currently, Tony is more dying from embarrassment than focusing on how the photo has perfectly captured the blue of Steve’s eyes.

“Fuck what?” Pepper asks, who is more than used to dealing with whatever bullshit Tony throws at her, and does a wonderful job of being the most badass person Tony knows. She adds a load of paperwork to the pile already on Tony’s desk (which is beginning to resemble MT. Everest, and Tony would prefer not to think about it). 

“Have you seen this?” Tony says, turning his laptop screen around to show her the article. He watches her eyes narrow and mouth turn down in the way it always does when she’s running through things in her head. Tony wouldn’t be surprised if half of them featured her taking over the world.

“You want me to get it taken down?” She asks, because she’s wonderful like that, and a mind reader. “Contact this guy so you can explain to him and pay for emotional damages?”

Tony groans, because she’s being funny, but he might actually have to. “Yeah. Please.” He slumps down to bury his head in his arms. “Why does this always happen?”

“Because you can’t keep your eyes to yourself?” Pepper suggests, patting his head. “I’ll get someone from legal to contact the publisher, and send someone out to find this guy.”

“Thanks, Pep,” Tony says, because she’s too good to him. “How will I ever live this down?”

“You’ve buried worse in the sand,” she tells him. “You’ll be fine. And hey, do your homework, okay?” she says, eyeing the paperwork on his desk disdainfully. “I swear some of that has been there for about three years.”

“Probably.”

“Thought so,” Pepper says, stepping back. “And before I forget, Natasha Romanov - you remember her? - invited you for dinner tonight. I agreed on your behalf, so get on a nice suit by half five, will you?”

“Whatever you say, boss,” Tony mumbles, and Pepper gives him some kind of sympathetic smile before leaving. “JARVIS?” He says, once the door has hissed shut.

“Yes, sir?”

“Wide search for Steve Rogers, will you?” Tony asks, resigning himself to the overwhelming feeling of embarrassment/shame/exhaustion. He might as well group up anyone else who’s posted articles about him and Steve and send them to Pepper while she’s sorting something out with legal.

“Of course, sir,” JARVIS says, sending a stream of data to Tony’s laptop screen. Maybe a disembodied voice with unlimited access to all technology in the tower would unsettle most people, but JARVIS is his baby. He’s been around for what feels like forever and hasn’t aged a day, and Tony owes most of his everything to JARVIS. “And might I set a reminder for your dinner with Ms Romanov? Lest you forget, of course.”

“Do what you do best, J,” Tony says. JARVIS is a more competent adult than Tony is himself, and he’s kind of okay with that.

Natasha Romanov (real name Natalia Alianovna Romanova, although Tony is supposed to pretend he doesn’t know that. Natasha probably knows he knows anyway, so he’s not sure why he’s supposed to pretend he doesn’t.) is something of a force to be reckoned with. She’s kind of a secret agent, although Tony isn’t sure how secret considering he knows about it, but she’s also a ballet dancer, a language coach, a mercenary, and ninja, and one of the most beautiful people he knows. 

She’s also shorter than him, which automatically puts her into his good books. 

She’s waiting for him in the doorway of the restaurant she chose, wearing some floor length, red, cocktail dress and a cocky smile. “Look who finally showed,” she says, somewhat loftily in a way that Tony knows means she’s teasing. 

“Well, don’t you look a million bucks,” Tony says in retort, before she grins and he does too. Natasha is one his best friends, really, (although Tony’s standards aren’t exactly high these days). 

“As if you could afford me,” Natasha says, kissing his cheek. “Shall we?” She offers him her arm and he takes it. She’s wearing gold stilettos, and they catch the candlelight whenever her feet move. 

“Romantic,” Tony remarks, looking around. The restaurant is definitely upscale, one of the ones that looks like it screens all of their guests and doesn’t let them in if they have under a million Instagram followers. Candles on every table, and heavy velvet sash curtains line the windows, blocking out all the streetlight.

“Is it?” she asks, leading him over to the entrance stand. A waitress dressed in a pristine white suit smiles at them. “Hi,” Natasha says. “Table for Natalie Romanoff?”

She deliberately pronounces her name wrong, something Tony is used to now. It’s probably to keep her secret-agent status, but its so close to her actual name that Tony doesn’t see the point. All it would take is one typo and everything would come crashing down.

“Of course,” the waitress says. Her voice is soft and low, sweet but still overbearingly professional. “This way.”

She starts off towards some closed off area, surrounded by sheer curtains. It looks mostly empty, and quiet, and private. Which either means Natasha has something important to discuss, or she has more guests coming.

Its a table for three, something Tony wasn’t expecting but hadn’t ruled out, and the waitress gestures to it gently. “I’ll send someone along for drinks orders soon,” she says. “I hope you enjoy your meal with us tonight.”

Natasha smiles gratefully before waving her off and Tony turns to her suspiciously. “I thought this was a date,” he says.

“It was,” Natasha says. “Until five minutes ago.”

“What happened five minutes?” Tony asks.

“My boss decided he wanted to speak to you,” she says. “He’ll be joining us at some point. Should we get wine?”

“Ask for their best red, I’ll buy,” Tony says. “What does he want to speak about?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” Natasha tells him. “And I was hoping you’d say that.”

Tony scoffs. “Is that all I am to you? A wallet?”

“Why else would I make friends with you?” Natasha teases. Her eyes are smiling. 

“I’m glad we’ve finally gotten to the building blocks of our relationship,” Tony says. “So. How’s things?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that. Who’s ‘Muscles?’”

“Oh, God,” Tony groans. “It’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says, sort of over dramatically. But also one hundred percent not.

“Sounds like a story. Spill,” Natasha demands.

“He’s just a guy, Nat. He works at a coffee shop, he’s really cute, and the press thought there was more there than there is, and now I need to apologise and also not let anyone see my face for the rest of my hopefully shorter than average lifespan,” Tony says.

“And you like him,” she says.

_ “And _ I like him!” Tony agrees. “As if things couldn’t get worse. Now I have apologise to him, pay for probably life-long therapy-”

“He won’t need lifelong therapy,” Natasha says.

“He might! What if he was a soldier and the camera flashes send him into a PTSD panic attack?” Tony asks.

“That’s over exaggerating,” she says. “He looks nice. He’ll understand. It can’t be the first time someone has stared excessively at his chest. He has more boob than I do.”

They both glance down at Natasha’s breasts and Tony makes a considering noise. “Close, probably,” he says. “Whatever, that’s not the point. The point is I’m absolutely dying from embarrassment.”

“I know a guy if you want to get rid of him,” Natasha says nonchalantly. 

“Get rid of him how?” Tony asks.

She makes finger guns and shoots them at the wall. “Get rid, get rid.”

“What?! No! I’m not paying some sketchy government agent to kill the guy whose life I accidentally ruined,” Tony says. “I own up to my mistakes. Most of the time.”

Natasha snorts. “We’re not all sketchy government agents.”

“That’s the part you focus on?” Tony hisses, because the waiter just showed up and you’re not really supposed to talk about sketchy government agent related topics in the middle of fancy restaurants. It’s probably written in some restaurant etiquette book somewhere.

“Good evening, sir, madame. Are you ready for drinks and appetisers?” The waiter asks.

Natasha nods. “We’ll take the finest red wine you have,” she says, glancing at Tony. “And the chef’s favourite?”

Tony nods. “Sounds good.”

“Of course,” the waiter says. “Is your last member joining you any time soon?”

“I have no idea,” Natasha says apologetically, and isn’t that always the way, Tony thinks. Her boss is somewhat elusive, so much so that Tony’s only met the deputy-boss (at least, that’s what Natasha called him, and Phil Coulson is as much a delight to be around as Pepper on steroids is).

“That’s no problem, ma’am,” the waiter says with a graceful smile. “I’ll be back soon with your food.”

“Thank you,” Tony says. The waiter nods and leaves. Tony waits five seconds before turning back to Natasha to demand, “So why did you decide to meet your boss in some fancy romantic restaurant with me?”

“I told you, I have no idea,” Natasha says. “I may be pretty highly ranked in the company, but I’m not that high.”

“I thought you were a secret agent,” Tony grumbles. “Who’s to say you couldn’t just steal the information?”

“Who’s to say I didn’t?” Natasha grins, leaning closer until the candlelight turns her features flickery and orange. “He’s coming to talk about this Steve guy.”

“What? Why?” Tony asks.

Natasha shrugs. “No idea. Apparently he thinks he’s some secret government agent, too. I guess we’ll find out?”

“Just my luck,” Tony sighs. “I sure know how to pick ‘em.”

Natasha grins at him. “If he is a government agent, then at least he’ll know how to deal with all the shit you’ll throw at him. Hey, maybe you could hire him as a bodyguard and he’d have to forgive you!” she says.

“That sounds like one of your worst ideas ever,” Tony says. “Seriously.”

“Oh, I can see you considering it,” Natasha teases. “Besides, none of my ideas are bad.”

“You sure about that, Agent?” Nicholas Fury himself says, in that inhumanely gruff voice. “Stark,” he says, nodding at Tony, before taking the third seat.

“Fury,” Tony says, “Always a pleasure,” even though it isn’t. “You hear to give me a shovel talk or something?”

“Or something,” Nick agrees. “Have you ordered yet?”

Natasha nods. “Wine and appetisers. What are we hear for, then?”

“As if you don’t know,” Nick says, giving Natasha a surprisingly good glare considering he only has one eye and never seems to use his mouth for expression. Tony isn’t exactly sure how he does it.

Tony leaves the restaurant with his brain thoroughly in pieces, a pattering in his heart that has yet to still, and an even stronger longing for Steve Rogers, who is apparently either the world’s best anything or a security threat so high they don’t have the paper for it.

He doesn’t know why, and that frustrates him to no end, because Nick Fury is a thieving bastard and knows just how to annoy Tony, and seems to do it whenever he can. Which obviously means Tony will have to be a thieving bastard back and snoop through all the SHIELD files he can get, even though he isn’t technically supposed to.

What SHIELD don’t know, can’t hurt them, he decided long ago. And his curiosity is piqued now. Tony either needs to interrogate Steve, or illegally acquire government(ish) files, and Pepper wouldn’t like him to perform an interrogation in his office. She says blood leaves one hell of a stain, and Tony doesn’t question how she knows.

Pepper’s just like that. Tony came to terms with it long ago. It’s why he hired her.

She’s also abnormally good at telling when he’s about to do something she won’t like (Rhodey calls it her Tony-sense, but Tony thinks that’s rubbish), which is why she steers him away from his computer as soon as he gets back. “So?” She asks. “How’s Natasha?”

“On my hitlist,” Tony says. “You are too. Also Nick Fury. I need my computer.”

“Not yet you don’t,” Pepper says. “Why are we on your hitlist?”

“Fury has information about Steve Rogers and I want to know what it is,” Tony says. “Apparently things are more tangled up than they first appeared.”

“How the hell does Fury know Steve?” Pepper asks. “Oh- speaking of, apparently we have his best friend working in R&D under the Veteran Project?”

“Apparently, Steve is some big fancy government agent,” Tony says, flexing his fingers. 

“Shit. No way,” Pepper says.

“Yes way,” Tony sighs. “And now I want to know more. Nick knows exactly how to tickle me in the wrong places and I hate him.”

“Hey, since when did you speak to Fury anyway?” Pepper asks. “I thought he was vacationing in the Caribbean.”

“Vacation is not a word in Nick Fury’s vocabulary. He crashed my dinner,” Tony grinds out, because he’s more annoyed about that than he should be. 

Pepper frowns. “Natasha didn’t mention that.”

“She’s a spy!” Tony exclaims. “Why would she? I hate them all. I need my laptop.”

“The last time you went hacking into secure government files, I had three days without sleep trying to sort out the mess you left,” Pepper says. “So no, you don’t need your laptop. Instead, let me tell you about what you’re doing tomorrow.”

She pushes him into her office and onto the white couch by the door. Tony lets her, mostly because he loves Pepper like his life depends on it, and also because he couldn’t stop her even if he tried.

“Right,” Pepper says. “Tomorrow, at nine, you have a phone call with a potential investor-”

“Tell him no. I don’t need more investors,” Tony says. “What are they investing in?”

Pepper gives him a dirty look. “He’s investing in medical bots. Which is something I’m going to need you to get started on, by the way.”

“What, medical bots? Been there, done that.”

“Medical bots for warzones,” she continues. “Bullet proof, fire resistant, large storage. It’ll be a fun project.”

“I thought I didn’t do military stuff anymore,” Tony says, sounding for all the world like a petulant child. 

“This isn’t military stuff, it’s life saving stuff. So you’ll have a phone call at nine. Then you have lunch at one with the Board, they’ve been demanding to see you,” Pepper continues, ignoring Tony’s long drawn out groan. “After lunch, you’ll pop round some of the lower labs, check on the progress. After that, at four, you have a meeting set up with Steve, to explain your situation and apologise.”

Tony perks up. “And find out if he’s a secret agent?”

“I doubt he is,” Pepper says, “But yes, find out if he’s a secret agent if it makes you feel better. But now you should go sign some paperwork and go to bed before it gets too late.”

“Paperwork?” Tony grimaces.

“Yes, paperwork.”

“I thought you could forge my signature by now,” Tony grumbles. He stands up all the same, snatching a pen from Pepper’s desk.

“Just because I can, doesn’t mean I should,” Pepper says. “You better return that in the morning.”

“I’ll buy you another,” Tony says dismissively. “Night, Pep. Love you.”

“Goodnight, Tony,” Pepper says, smiling at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You always do,” Tony says. He catches the tailend of her smile before disappearing out of her door and heading down into the sub-levels of the tower, where his personal labs are.

Pepper has left photocopies of paperwork she needs from him all around the tower in the hopes it’ll get him to sign some of it, and it makes Tony smile. She’s ten times more than he deserves, and he should probably give her a raise.

Instead of signing the forms, he flicks through them and dumps them in the recycling. “Scan and send them, J,” Tony says, collapsing into an office chair and rolling it over to his desk.

“You really shouldn’t do that, sir,” JARVIS says. “Ms Potts would like you to sign them personally.”

“You’re personal,” Tony shrugs. “She’s fighting a losing battle, JARV. I’m allergic to paperwork.”

“As I’m sure she’s aware of,” JARVIS says dryly. “But I must remind you to read them through at least.”

Tony hums noncommittally. Its not that he doesn’t want to do the paperwork (he really doesn’t want to), but more that he can’t. Especially when there are so many other things that need his attention. Like rewiring his prototypes, or brainstorming, or thinking about Steve and his eyes and that he gets to see him tomorrow.

“Shit,” Tony says.

“My thoughts exactly, sir,” JARVIS says.

“I’ve got a crush,” Tony says, something nearing emergency colouring his tone. “Shit. I’ve got a crush. On Steve.”

“Are you only just becoming aware of this, sir?” JARVIS asks.

“I don’t need that right now,” Tony snaps. “I don’t need that right now. I have a crush on Steve. A fucking crush on fucking Steve. I don’t even know him. I only order coffee from him. Why do I have a crush on him? I don’t even  _ know  _ him!”

“Sir, I urge you to calm down,” JARVIS says. “It may not be a crush. Purely just a fantastical infatuation.”

“You’re saying things and all I hear is meh-meh-meh-meh-meh,” Tony says, somewhat desperate. “JARVIS, I have a crush! On Steve! I can’t calm down!”

“It’s hardly the problem you think it is, I assure you sir,” JARVIS says. His voice is the same as it always is, something that isn’t exactly a cause of comfort for Tony right now, but it’s familiar enough that it slows his heart rate a little bit.

“God, what am I going to say to him tomorrow?” Tony says. “‘Hi, I’m Tony Stark, I get coffee from you sometimes and now the entire world thinks we’re fucking, sorry!’? That sounds terrible!”

“You’re not going to say that, sir,” JARVIS says. “You’ll do as you normally do and ramble at him until he laughs, leaves, or Ms Potts comes in to sort you out.”

“That’s stupid,” Tony moans. “This whole thing is stupid. I should never have started getting coffee from that stupid cafe.”

“You don’t mean that,” JARVIS says, as gently has a robot can. “Why don’t you call Colonel Rhodes?”

“You always have the best ideas, J,” Tony says. “But I think I might just go to bed and spend the night dreaming of all the ways tomorrow will go wrong.”

“Tomorrow will go fine, sir,” JARVIS says. And wouldn’t that be the day, Tony thinks.

Tomorrow starts as badly as it possibly could. Tony wakes up after 40 minutes of sleep, ends up late for his phone call, Pepper glares at him (her glare is one to rival Natasha’s, which makes his legs turn to jelly), and Tony spills hot coffee over a pile of super-mega-important papers someone had left lying around (the someone was probably him, but it doesn’t do anything to quell his annoyance). Things don’t calm down until he and Pepper are in the car to lunch with the board, but even then, the tension between them hardly lessens.

“If this lunch goes badly,” Pepper hisses outside of the cafe she’d booked tables at. “I will kill you.”

“It won’t go bad,” Tony says. “Besides, what’re they going to do, fire me? They work for me, in case you’d forgotten.”

He doesn’t like snapping at Pepper, but some days it has to happen. Some days, he gets point three hours of sleep and his heart won’t stop hammering against his chest, and some days he has to be angry at everyone.

Pepper doesn’t grant him a reply, which is probably a huge foresight on her part. Instead, she slams the car door harder than she needed to (Tony can see the ‘Trouble In Paradise?’ headlines already) and stalks into the cafe ahead of him.

Tony sighs and follows her, praying that whatever God is listening doesn’t actually have it out for him, not matter how much it may seem it.

He tries to ignore the dead bird that falls at his feet as he passes under a tree. The metaphor really isn’t one he’d like to think about.

The only good thing out of his day is how James Barnes avoids his eye entirely when he goes to visit the R&D labs like Pepper requested. It’s not hard to miss him (soldiers always command a certain sort of energy), and James is tall and wide and probably someone Tony would have invited back to his room, had he been two decades younger. 

Pepper can’t stop laughing at him when she comes to collect him for his meeting with Steve. Which Tony had almost forgotten about, because he was entirely distracted in making a new robot out of pipe cleaners, a phone battery, and the lense from someone’s reading glasses. Which he’ll probably need to pay compensation for now.

“You look nervous,” Pepper says, as she stalks him along the corridors. 

Tony wipes machine oil down his suit pants. “I am.”

“Why? He’s just a guy,” she says. “You’ve talked to plenty of guys. Plenty of guys you’ve liked, too. You’ll be fine.”

“What if he’s a secret agent?” Tony asks. “A psycho killer? Someone who is thoroughly weirded out by this whole thing? Someone who hates me? Someone who doesn’t know me? There are so many variables, Pep.”

She looks at him sympathetically. They’ve stopped outside of Meeting Room Five. “You’ll be fine. Go get ‘em, tiger.”

“If the tigers get me, make sure I get a double spread in the newspaper in honour,” Tony says.

“Whatever you want,” she promises. Then she’s gone, and all Tony has to do is push open the door. Which is one of the hardest things he’s ever done, even if it shouldn’t be. Because the whole thing is stupid. Stupid crazy insane, and Tony has to do it because he owes this guy an apology and nine years worth of therapy and maybe rent money as well, because New York rent is insane and he has more than enough money to spare.

Tony ends up pushing the door open out of frustration at himself.

Steve is sitting on the right side of the long table, drumming his fingers on the table. He’s wearing sky blue jeans and some kind of red shirt that has no business being as tight as it is. It takes almost all of Tony’s focus to drag his eyes away from Steve’s abs to his eyes.

“Hi,” he says. “Shit. Sorry.” Keep digging, Stark. “I’m Tony Stark. Duh.”

“I’m Steve,” Steve says, smiling. “Steve Rogers. Nice to finally meet you?”

“I’ve been ordering coffee from you for two months,” Tony blurts. “That’s not related at all. Um. I just wanted to apologise. For that article. Thing.”

“Old news,” Steve says, without a care in the world. It’s almost as if he can’t get more perfect.

“I wanted to apologise anyway. It wasn’t, um, my intention? And I’m sorry if it made life uncomfortable for you these past few days, being thrust under the spotlight so carelessly,” Tony continues. “And I’m sorry. If you need any therapy, I’d love to pay for it.”

Steve shrugs. “I don’t mind. My life could always do with some shaking up. I thought you’d be at the cafe this morning, though. I missed you.”

“I thought I’d give you a break for a bit,” Tony says. “Let things die down. Not that they ever do with me.”

Steve smiles again. Tony’s getting kind of worried about impulsively proposing to Steve. “Seriously, water under the bridge. But I appreciate your apology.”

Tony feels kind of at a loss for words, because this isn’t exactly how he imagined this going, so he nods. “Right. Right, yeah. Um, there was a couple other things I wanted to ask you? If that’s okay.”

“I’m an open book,” Steve says. Tony feels a bit like he’s about to kiss Steve speechless if he doesn’t stop smiling.

“Well, one, do you know anyone called Natasha Romanov and Nick Fury?” Tony asks, watching for Steve’s reaction.

He looks appropriately blank. “No? I don’t think so, anyway. My memory isn’t always the best. Why, should I know them?”

“No- no, I was just wondering. Second question is: are you a secret government agent?” Tony says.

Steve actually laughs. “Gosh, in my dreams, right? No, I’m not. Unless it’s so secret that even I don’t know about it.”

Tony laughs too, even if it’s just to catch his breath. Okay, he’s not a secret agent and he doesn’t know Nat and Nick (unless he’s a fabulously good liar, in which case Steve probably could be a secret agent). “And third question is, um. Is there any chance that you’d like to go on a date with me? Like, an actual one. And get to know each other outside of coffee orders.”

Steve looks kind of surprised. But happy surprised, Tony thinks. At least, he definitely hopes it’s happy surprised. “I- Sure. I’d love to. Do you want to take my number, or something, and we can hash out the details?”

Tony never thought he’d fall in love with someone who says ‘golly gosh,’ and ‘goodness me,’ unironically. But he did. And Steve’s pretty great, even if he plays 1920s jazz over the loudspeakers constantly, and makes Tony sign his paperwork when Pepper can’t get through to him (Pepper looks a bit like she’s about to drop to her knees and worship Steve whenever he hands her a full stack of filled out paperwork).

It’s a pretty cool story to tell as well, ‘Oh, yeah, didn’t you know? The tabloids got us together,’ Tony supposes. What makes it worth it is how Steve always laughs along and squeezes his hand.

Also he’s really good in bed, not that Tony would tell anyone that.

_ /fin. _


	2. in the morning by Jade

Tony woke up to Steve kissing down the column of his neck, marking him up gently. He sighed low in his throat, and Steve smirked against him. 

“Good morning to you too, darlin’” Tony slurred out, relaxing back into sheets, tension draining off like molasses. Steve hummed back at him, trailing his mouth down Tony’s naked body. His mouth sealed over Tony’s nipple, softly laving at it. Tony’s eyes slid closed, back arching slightly.

“Beautiful.” Steve drawled out, running his hands up his sides before gently turning him over. Tony made a quiet huff of protest before going limp again. Steve grazed his lips down his spine, soft and barely there. Tony moved back into the sensation. 

Time seemed to slow as Steve continued his gentle ministrations, pet names falling from his mouth like honey. 

Tony suddenly jerked as he felt a hot tongue against the cleft of his ass, warm and inviting. He was still open and wet from last night, and Steve intended to use that to his advantage. He gently bit down as he scissored Tony’s open hole, leaving red marks behind his teeth. Tony canted his hips up, silently begging for more. 

Steve obliged, rubbing unerringly at his prostate as he reached for the condoms he had laid on the nightstand yesterday. He tore the packaging with his teeth, and pulled away to roll it on. Tony whined at the loss, almost pulling himself up to reach back himself, but before he could Steve rested his hand on his lower back. 

Steve pressed down slightly as he pushed in, forcing Tony’s muscles to relax and take it. He rolled his hips as Tony’s muscles stretched to accommodate him. 

He draped himself over Tony’s back, pressing him down and surrounding him, as he thrust in and out. He dragged over Tony’s prostate with unerring accuracy, sending sparks of pleasure up and down his spine. 

Tony’s orgasm washed over him slowly, drowning out everything else. He tensed and shook through it, white sparks behind his eyelids. Steve fucked him through the aftershocks, rhythm faltering as he chased his own pleasure. He heard more than felt Steve’s own orgasm, a low continuing grunt as he relaxed. 

“Just wanted to wake you up in a nice way.” 


	3. under the big top by kait

Steve Rogers was totally unimpressed with modern day circuses. Trapeze artists could be fun and fire breathing was always captivating to watch, but he found himself often missing the lions and tigers and bears, oh my, of circuses past. He understood why it was illegal, animal rights were important to him too, but they sure did make it interesting back in the day. 

He didn’t quite understand why Tony had dragged him out to the circus that had set up in central park, they were both far too old to enjoy the cheap jokes and carb-filled snacks. It was still a good time though, and Steve cherished any time he got to spend with Tony.

Then they got home and Tony sent arousal rocketing through Steve when he told him he was going to slip into something a little more comfortable. He had expected Tony to come out in his birthday suit, or even some of the beautiful lacy numbers he kept for special occasions. The last thing Steve expected out of his boyfriend when he stepped into his bedroom was circus themed sex.

In the five minutes he’d been gone, Tony had hung streamers connecting from the ceiling titty in the center of the room to the surround walls, draping them in order to resemble a circus tent. He was wearing something even better than his birthday suit, soft red ballet flats and elegant black ribbons circling from his toes all the way up to his neck where they were tied in a nice bow. Silver glitter covered the tan expanse of his skin, glimmering in the low light of the bedroom as Tony crooked a finger at Steve.

“Darling,” Tony purred from where he was stretched out across their bed. He tilted his head back into the silk sheets and parted his legs with a sigh. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

“So,” Steve could feel himself hardening in his jeans as Tony arched off the bed with a wink at him. He thought back to the tagline of the circus they had been at earlier, pulling his shirt up and over his head. “Is this going to be the show of my life?”

“Something like that,” Tony responded sitting up. Steve loved that he was not ashamed of his hard cock bobbing between his legs as he reached for the lube in their dresser, throwing it on the bed. Steve felt his pulse pick up as Tony sashayed over, a beautiful swing to his honest hips. He kneeled between Steve’s parted legs, face portraying the picture of innocence as he leaned forward to unzip Steve’s jeans with his teeth.

Steve relaxed as Tony fingers danced across his calves, sliding his hands up his thighs, squeezing his muscles through the fabric as he undid the button on Steve’s jeans with a practiced mouth. Steve had been going commando, underwear had always been too restricting, and he delighted in the pleased smile on Tony’s face as his erection was finally released from his jeans.

Steve kicked his jeans off the rest of the way and let out a small groan. Tony placed a delicate kiss at his head before sucking his cock slowly into his mouth. Without a custom made spider gag, it was always hard for Tony to get his mouth to open wide enough to wrap around Steve’s cock, but he managed, salivating around the head. Steve knew just how much his boyfriend always appreciated the ache in his jaw afterward, the rasp of his words when Steve finally gave in and fucked his mouth the way Tony loved.

Tony had not even worked his mouth halfway down Steve’s length when his cock hit the back of Tony’s throat and he choked. Tony’s eyes watered as his throat contracted, gently sliding off Steve with an obscene pop. Steve ran a finger over the spit and precum collecting on his lover’s pouty bottom lip, sucking his thumb into his mouth with a sigh. Steve knew just how much Tony hated not being able to fit Steve all the way into his mouth without a gag so he bent down gripping his fingers into the ribbon around Tony’s neck and pulling his lover into his lap.

“I think I was promised a show,” Steve whispered as he thumbed one of Tony’s perfect pink nipples. He sucked the other one into his mouth, loving the taste of edible glitter on his boyfriend’s skin. He ran his fingers over the ribbon around Tony’s torso, pulling it away from his body before letting it snap back against his skin.

Tony threw his leg over Steve’s lap, pressing their hot erections together as he arched his back in a way Steve associated with the best times in the bedroom. Steve fisted his fingers in Tony’s curly brown locks, tugging his head down and pressing his lover’s lips to his collarbone in an invitation. Tony was happy to comply, beard rubbing against Steve’s skin as he bit his way across broad shoulders to suck a hickey into the vulnerable skin of his neck. It would be gone by morning but Steve lover the ephemeral marks anyway.

With Tony distracted, Steve picked him up, walking them both to the bed where he reclined. Tony loved being on top, but it wasn’t something Steve allowed him often, he didn’t want to fuel his lover’s ego too much. Tony grabbed the lube from where it lay abandoned on the sheets, pouring out a generous amount on his fingers, and turning so his ass was inches away from Steve’s face.

“You wanted a front row seat right?” Tony reached behind him to slide a delicate finger across his rim, lube dripping obscenely onto Steve’s chest as he watched transfixed. Tony slowly pressed one finger in, it would take four before he was ready for Steve’s cock, but Steve had always been a patient man. He leaned his head forward, biting into the soft flesh of Tony’s ass and inciting a pretty moan from his boyfriend. He licked across his perineum, delighting in the coconut flavour of the lube, Tony always remembered to buy his favourite.

Steve slid his fingers through the lube on his chest, warming it in his hands before pressing his index finger into Tony’s tight heat. With a groan, Tony’s legs gave out under him, cock rubbing against Steve’s upper abdomen as Steve pulled at his rim, licking across his fingers. Tony slipped his finger out to get his arms under him, pushing himself back up onto all fours. Before Tony could reach back behind him, Steve slipped his middle finger in beside his index, scissoring them and delighting in Tony’s broken moan.

“This is the best show I’ve ever seen,” Steve praised sucking a hickey into Tony’s thigh. He felt his boyfriend shiver before his fingers detoured to wrap around Steve’s hard cock. Steve sighed as Tony wrapped his lips around him, using gravity to slide halfway down Steve’s cock until he was settled comfortably in the back of his throat as he swallowed.

Steve shifted to get his feet under him so he had leverage to fuck Tony’s throat. He carefully thrust his hips up feeling the slight hitch in Tony’s breathing as Steve cut off his air. Tony moaned as he struggled to breathe around Steve’s cock while simultaneously pushing further down to take him deeper. Steve pulled away to let Tony breathe, excitement welling within him when Tony let out an annoyed exhale and followed Steve’s cock with his mouth.

“Doll,” Steve breathes through a pinched out groan, “take a deep breath love, I don’t want you passing out on my cock.”

Tony whined rubbing his cock against Steve’s collarbone and taking a slow, deep breath before lapping a strip up Steve’s cock. He slid his tongue across Steve’s slit, bringing up both his hands to wrap around Steve’s shaft. Running his fingers through the pool of lube on his chest, Steve slipped a third finger past Tony’s tight ring of muscle and moaned into his rim.

“Relax baby,” Steve carefully squeezed Tony’s hip feeling his boyfriend melt into him, legs giving out as he groaned around Steve’s cock. “Incoming.” Steve warned, and he was gone, throwing his head back and coming down Tony’s mouth. He felt Tony choke on his cock, as come spilled past his lips, dripping onto Steve’s thighs.

Steve reached down, fisting his fingers into Tony’s hair and tugging him off his cock. “Tony baby relax.”

“You’re so beautiful Steve.” Tony didn’t relinquish his grip on Steve’s cock, pressing a fluttering kiss to the head before cleaning up the come on Steve’s thighs with his tongue. Steve wasn’t feeling overstimulated just yet, his cock hadn’t even flagged and was currently pressed into the slopeing curve of Tony’s neck.

Steve carefully worked in a fourth finger reaching down for the lube and pouring it around his fingers as he stretched out Tony’s opening. He sucked a hickey into the bottom of Tony’s butt cheek, distracting him from the burn of four fingers. Steve carefully sought out his prostate, grinning into Tony’s thighs when he keened.

“Steve, I’m ready.” Tony whined pulling his head up from where he had been leaning on Steve’s thigh, lapping at the base of his cock to keep him interested.

Steve slid his hands up Tony’s ass to his chest, pulling him up and flipping them over so he could be on top. Steve tilted his hips down to rub against Tony’s neglected cock, watching the smaller man moan prettily under him. He dipped his head down to press their lips together, sucking Tony’s plump bottom lip into his mouth and biting down.

“Relax for me baby,” Steve murmured against Tony’s mouth as he slid his fingers under Tony’s bottom.

“Just fuck me, please,” Tony’s head lolled as he canted his hips up to press Steve against his center. He slid his hands up Steve’s chest, pressing blunt fingernails into the meat of Steve’s shoulders. “Baby, please.”

Steve carefully lined himself up, pushing against Tony’s rim as he waited for Tony to relax in his arms. He grabbed the lube, drizzling it over Tony’s opening and loving the feeling of his lover shivering underneath him. Steve took Tony’s hips in a bruising grip to leave Tony aching handprints for later. “I love you.”

Tony let out a delighted scream as Steve sank into him, carefully scanning Tony’s face for any sign of pain as his rim fluttered around him. Steve leaned forward, his cock pressing against Tony’s prostate as he thumbed at one perfect pink nipple. He lifted his finger, covered in edible glitter, to his mouth to suck it off.

Steve waited patiently for Tony to adjust to him, watching his lover’s face twist in pleasure as he clenched down around Steve. Tony slowly relaxed before his eyes slid open, he dug his heels into Steve’s ass pressing them impossibly closer. “I love you too, Steve, please move.”

With a bubbling laugh, Steve pulled out until just his tip rested against Tony’s red-rubbed rim. He slid his thumb against Tony’s hole as he thrust back in loving the stretch beneath his fingertip. He always set a punishing pace the way Tony absolutely adored.

Tony could never walk in the mornings and complained relentlessly about the ache set deep in his hips, but Steve wouldn’t have him any other way. Besides, if Tony was all fucked out, Steve got extra morning cuddles, sometimes even a barefoot and pregnant day if he was lucky.

Steve fisted his fingers in Tony’s chocolate curls, their mouths meeting in a messy clash of teeth as Steve drove into him. Steve could feel himself getting close to his climax as he slid his fingers under the ribbon running down Tony’s legs and used them to pull his ankles up by Steve’s shoulders. Tony screamed as the new angle brought Steve hard against his prostate, triggering his orgasm.

Steve lost himself to his own high as Tony clenched around him, slumping against his lover’s come splattered chest with a sigh. Steve rolled them over so he wouldn’t accidentally crush Tony who let out a wince at the overstimulation.

“I know doll,” Steve murmured as he carefully slid out, his head catching against Tony’s rim. He carefully reached down circling a clinical finger around Tony’s rim to check for tearing. “You always open up so perfectly for me.”

“‘M yours,” Tony murmured from where his head was pillowed on Steve’s chest. His softening cock was still trapped between them, but Tony made no move to get up as Steve carded careful fingers through his messy brown locks.

“You were right,” Steve craned his neck to press a kiss to Tony’s sweaty forehead, “that sure was the best show of my life.”


End file.
